


Enter Sandman

by fabricdragon



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dark, Dreams and Nightmares, Enthusiastic Consent, Everyone Has Issues, I Don't Even Know, I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Ok i give up this is really mixed up, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Thor: The Dark World, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, The characters have officially taken over and i have no clue anymore, What Have I Done, seriously Clint is the nicest guy in this story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5494592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricdragon/pseuds/fabricdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started with a single idea of  Loki appearing in some Avengers dreams, and eventually leading to a  IronFrostHawk story.  However as is typical with my stories, the characters have their own ideas of  where they are going, so... who knows?</p>
<p>Set after Thor, the Dark world, BUT... Age of Ultron didnt happen (at least not that way) and  Winter Soldier hasn't happened, or at least it hasn't happened yet..., so Loki is secretly on the Throne of Asgard, as Odin.  Meanwhile Clint Barton is dealing with the lack of trust from S.H.I.E.L.D. after being controlled by Loki...(yes still)  Tony and Pepper have broken up (again, probably for good this time) and most of the Avengers are falling apart.</p>
<p>This is intended to be ....<br/>I give up. i have no idea anymore, the characters don't tell me anything. your guess is as good as mine.<br/>Updates weekly (Tuesdays when possible)</p>
<p>NOTE: Shares canon elements (i.e what Hydra was doing in the background, and the Psych Department of S.H.I.E.L.D. ) with part 8 of "A Tangled Skein" series, but is set in a completely different universe (Loki did not escape and return to earth in this one, he did in that one.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everyone has a dream

Clint packed his things and left S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. He avoided as many agents as he could on the way out, which wasn’t difficult since so many of them avoided him. He was off duty on a medical, again. It would be at least 6 weeks before he thought he could be declared fit for duty, and he wasn’t about to spend them hiding in his rooms here. Thank God, Stark had made it clear he had someplace to stay in New York.

With one arm in a sling, and a leg in a walking cast, he was unable to take his motorcycle up, so he ended up dozing on the train. This was hardly the first time he’d been injured and off duty, but prior to the Chitauri invasion, he’d always felt like the rest of his team had his back. Whenever he spoke to the psychs about the fact that he didn’t feel like he could trust his team mates anymore, they assumed it was his own paranoia, or residual guilt, or whatever they thought, but he knew. This last time his backup had deliberately moved out of place, and no one had answered when he called for help.

They were trying to get him killed.

When he arrived in New York, Stark had arranged a driver to bring him to the tower. The guy’s name was apparently ‘Happy’, of all things. Clint wasn’t in the mood to talk, but he tried to make it clear he appreciated the effort.

Jarvis remembered him, apparently, and took him to his… “Holy FUCK, I have my own FLOOR?”

“Actually half a floor, Mr. Barton. Do you require more room?”

“Uh… no. Geez, I was expecting maybe a guest room, or something.”

He heard the elevator open and then Stark’s voice from the elevator, “Welcome to… wherever. I didn’t know how to decorate it for you, but it’s got the basics. I left a bunch of catalogs around, just tell me or Jarvis what you need and we’ll have it delivered by tomorrow… probably.”

Clint went over to him, and reflexively sized him up: red eyes, hidden behind sunglasses; slight smell of alcohol; circles under his eyes.

“What the hell happened?”

“That obvious?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell you what, let’s go up to my penthouse and we can trade stories over take-out and booze.”

“Deal.”

Which is how they ended up sitting in Tony Stark’s penthouse, bonding over Chinese food and beer. Stark-Tony, he insisted- had broken up with Pepper again, apparently for good this time. Clint declared her to be an idiot, and Tony insisted she was perfect.

“You’re way too hung up on her.”

“Yeah, I know, but she’s one of the few people I can trust,” Tony said into a beer.

“How can you trust her if she left you?”

Tony just shook his head.

Clint told him about how ‘mysteriously’ backup kept not being there when he needed it. Tony pointed out how the exact same thing happened to cops that were believed to be internal police, or gay, or something else disliked.

“So they never trusted you after…?”

“After Loki brainwashed me? No. We all went through lots of psych department nonsense. I was on probation again for a while.”

“Bad?”

“The psych department assholes actually made me wish Loki would come back: yeah, it was bad.”

Tony whistled.

Somehow-and Clint suspected the alcohol- they both ended up on the sofa, watching some totally-not-a-chick-flick movie, and complaining about all the people who had broken their hearts. Given who they were, some of the stories were pretty odd; also given who they were, they both knew they weren’t always using real names.

“Sho… Clint…I gotta know…” Tony stared deeply into his eyes from about six inches away. “Is Natasha…” he waved meaningfully.

“Better,” Clint nodded.

“Woah.” Then Tony passed out on him.

Clint was just gonna lie here for a minute and then get Tony off him and get back to his room. In a minute. Or two…

\---

Clint didn’t even see Tony for a couple of days, between business meetings and his work in the lab. The next time he saw him was after Clint woke up from a vaguely remembered nightmare and ended up in the common kitchen at three AM. Much to his surprise, Tony was huddled up on the sofa staring at the TV-which was turned off.

“Stark? You ok?” Clint asked. He guessed the man wasn’t ok by the way he jumped.

“Jesus, Clint! Do I need to put a bell on you?”

“Wouldn’t help,“ he deadpanned. “They train us for that. ‘Walking silently while wearing bells’, totally a S.H.I.E.L.D. class.”

“I believe that.”

“Nightmare?”

“Why?”

“That’s why I’m up.”

“Oh.” Tony looked up at him thoughtfully. “Bad?”

“Sometimes. You?”

“Sometimes.”

They sat there until the sun came up.

\---

Tony was in Afghanistan again. They were dragging him back to the water. Obie was sitting sprawled on his sofa watching them with a smirk. Around the third time they plunged him under water Obie turned into a smirking Loki, and they threw him down at his feet. Thank God, this was one of the better ones.

Tony woke up and went back to his lab to work on new arrows for Clint.

When he went up to ask Clint a question, he found Natasha sitting at the table eating ice cream.

Tony looked around carefully, “Are you actually Natasha, and is that really ice cream?”

“Yes and yes.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you expect imposter assassins to sit in your tower eating ice cream?

“I dunno, it just seemed like a not Natasha thing to do. Where’s Clint?”

“Gym.”

“Did he tell you about his backup problems?”

“Yes.”

“Glad we could have this conversation, Natasha, I feel much better about it now.”

Tony wandered down to the gym wondering if she was actually a robot. _Do robots eat ice cream? Maybe it wasn’t really ice cream, maybe it’s a power source? I wonder if you could make a fuel gel that looked like ice cream…_

“You look like shit,” Clint said from some of the equipment.

“Always a pleasure, Clint, always a pleasure. So, I couldn’t sleep and was working on some more arrows.”

They went off and spent the day in the lab. Whoever it was running the company tried to call about Tony coming to some meeting, but when he saw him on the video screen he changed his mind. Eventually Clint left.

“Nat… Nat helps me sleep.” He shrugged.

Tony tried to make a ribald comment but ended up yawning instead. Clint laughed.

Tony didn’t want to go back to bed, so he drank some more coffee and went back to work. Eventually Jarvis-the traitor- cut him off; something about heart palpitations and caffeine. He put his head down for a minute on the lab table.

\---

The cave always had such a distinctive smell: dust and something that he only smelled in Afghanistan. They came and dragged him away from Yinsen. They took turns, burning him, raping him. He was gagging from the taste of them. Everything melted away, to the touch of a pair of kind, cool hands. He fell asleep with his head resting on a pair of leather boots.

\---

 _Natasha could cook, who knew?_ She had made some kind of… something… for Clint and Tony, and then went out for the day.

“It’s a bean and pasta salad, with vegetables,” Clint said. “She got the recipe somewhere and said it was a complete protein with all the vitamins and minerals in one bowl. She makes it a lot. Apparently you can make it from canned stuff and frozen or dried stuff if you want.”

“This is good. I wasn’t expecting it to be good.” Tony spooned another mouthful.

“It’s not bad,” Clint nodded. “You look… better than I expected.”

“Finally got some sleep without nonstop nightmares.”

“Ah.” Clint nodded

“Natasha… chases nightmares away?”

“I think they’re scared of her,” Clint nodded, and then paused, torn between trying to help, and not sharing someone else’s business. “I think we all have nightmares, Tony.”

“All?” He ducked his head back down to the food. “Hard to imagine. Heck, I have trouble imagining you get them.”

“Well, they get ok, then something happens and they flare up.” He frowned, “Usually a few hours on the range helps.” Clint looked sourly down at the sling.

“I usually find some one night hook-up at a party.” Tony shrugged.

“Is… It’s been bad, lately, hasn’t it?

“Worse than normal, yeah.” Tony shrugged again. “Anyway, I gotta go find a pair of teddy boots.”

“Da fuq?”

Tony laughed at the expression in his face. “Last time I had something interrupt my nightmares it was an old memory from boarding school. A stupid card game we used to play. I slept with a deck of the cards for 2 months. It helped. This time it was a pair of boots.”

Clint grinned. “Oh. Hey, if it works, it works.”

“Can I get you anything? Or Natasha?”

“If I think of anything, I’ll call.”

They bumped fists and Tony went out looking for his dream boots.

 

 


	2. These boots were made for walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony comes back with boots, a discussion with Natasha and Clint, and the price of renting RDJ  
> also kissing.

 

Clint told Natasha when she got in about the idea that if something interrupted a nightmare, you could buy a real life version to keep the nightmares away. They spent an increasingly amusing time considering the purchase of elephants, kites, and airplanes, and the kidnapping of notable actors. So when Tony walked in with a large shopping bag–or five– Clint dragged him into it.

“So, do you think we could BUY Robert Downey Jr.? Or would we have to kidnap him?” Clint managed to ask that with a straight face.

Tony stared at him blankly for about 4 full seconds, then started muttering.

“Tony?” Clint started worrying.

“I THINK I could probably rent the guy, but how long do you need him for?” Tony was pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“SHIT! No! Hypothetical!!!!!” Clint yelped.

Then Tony grinned, and Clint started banging his head into the table.

“Fool,” Natasha said affectionately, as she cuffed him across the back of the head.

Tony laughed, “Seriously, though, what started that question?”

“We were thinking about things that have interrupted nightmares for us, or given us good dreams, or at least not bad ones. Sometimes that’s a movie or television show, so maybe an actor. Which led to ‘how would you get an anti-nightmare teddy actor?’.”

“And you picked RDJ?” Tony raised his eyebrow.

Natasha shook her head. “I did, Sherlock.” She shrugged, “Probably from a television in the next room.”

“Well, it beats an Uno deck,” Tony said thoughtfully.

\---

It was one of the really bad dreams, one where horrors melted into each other and ran together: his father; Afghanistan; all the little hells of college. Suddenly, Loki was laughing at him, and he threw Tony down at his feet in chains… at his boots: familiar boots; boots that meant safety, and an end to nightmares. Tony cried out and clutched at them; clung to them and put his head on them and prayed that this was the way out– the escape. And the rest of the nightmare faded away… and he was lying at Loki’s feet, curled up and praying that it would end.

Tony Stark slept peacefully, clutching a pair of boots, for the rest of the night.

When he went out to get coffee, Natasha was there.

“So. Um… Clint?”

She shook her head, waved at the elevator, then at a pile of baked goods and a cup of coffee, and slipped away.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Where’s Clint?”

“He is just coming up from his floor, sir.”

At that moment the elevator door opened.

“Natasha left this. I think she was trying to tell me to feed you? Uh… unless that was ‘touch this and you die’? But I don’t think so.”

“Shit. Was she talking at all?”

“No… she waved and sort of… vanished.”

Clint rubbed his forehead. “Did she smile?”

“No, now that you mention it.”

“Good. Silent plus smiling is bad. Sometimes. It’s the combination. It depends on the smile.” Clint nodded and helped himself to the baked goods.

“She wasn’t like this before…”

“Yeah. Yeah she was. You only saw her working. She pulls personalities out and moves into them. You’d hardly notice.” He sighed, “She… got hurt worse than anyone, when she was just a kid. She hardly knows who she is without a cover.” Clint’s eyes were unfocused as he thought about how long it had taken to find out what she actually liked for food. She’d never been permitted preferences. “That’s my Nat. You’ve met Natalie Rushman, and Black Widow, and a handful of other covers.”

Clint smiled at Tony. “The woman who eats in front of you, and hardly says anything? Who you’re lucky to get two syllables out of until she trusts you with a knife at her back? THAT’s Nat. She let her real face show in front of you, and she didn’t put a fake face on to talk to you… that’s incredible.”

“I... I hadn’t known.” Tony felt horribly guilty.

“Not many people do.” Clint cleared his throat, “So, how did the boots work?”

“Great actually.” Tony was glad of the change of topic. “My subconscious is weirder than I thought, though.”

They both started working their way through baked goods and coffee.

“How so?” Clint asked.

“Well, it was the usual nightmare: you know, stuff kind of goes from one thing to another? Like one minute, it’s terrorists in Afghanistan, and the next minute it’s being sucker punched by the Hulk or something? All of which makes sense at the time.”

Clint nodded, “Yeah, you switch cities, or the bad guys are replaced by mutant octopuses or something.”

“Octopodes” corrected Tony absently. “So I’d just been thrown at Loki’s feet-“

Clint winced.

“No, no, you see I noticed he was wearing the boots, so I figured he was like the nightmare exit door. I sort of grabbed his boots and had a peaceful night’s sleep.” Tony shook his head. “But what does it say about my subconscious that I put the ‘end nightmare’ signal on HIM, huh?”

Clint blinked a lot. “Ok, yeah, that’s… any idea why?”

“Not a clue. Maybe because he’s hot? Maybe because the worst thing he did to me personally was throw me out a window? Which was scary and all, but…”

“Umm... he led the invasion.” _He’s HOT?! Tony thinks LOKI is hot?_

“Yeah, but the subconscious is weird. I have nightmares about the dimensional breach all the time, but with Loki it’s just the window thing. Maybe it’s because he surrendered to me after Stuttgart? And I blasted him back in the penthouse, after the window thing? My mind says I can take him, I guess.”

“Well, he was hardly trying.” Clint looked down at his coffee.

“Errr... what?”

Clint sighed. “He showed up injured, when he got me and Dr. Selvig. He took days to recover and he looked BETTER every single day he was here. He was making reports back to someone, using the scepter… and whoever it was hurt him. It was pretty obvious someone was running him.”

“What…” Tony stared at him, stunned. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“No one wanted to hear it.”

Tony sat back, stunned. “That means someone else out there was REALLY behind the invasion, and they’re still out there, and no one’s even looking into it!”

“Thor took him home for a trial,” Clint said looking startled. “They must have asked him. They must know.”

“Then why haven’t they told us?”

They looked at each other for a long time.

“Ok, either they don’t know… or they do and they think we know… or they do and why didn’t they tell us?” Tony bit vindictively into a pastry.

“Bait?” Clint suggested

“Damn. Yeah, maybe.”

“Could be they just don’t think much of us,” Clint shrugged.

“Yeah, Thor basically acted like we were expendable. He never came back to chat with us later, although S.H.I.E.L.D. has evidence of more Asgardian portals.”

“They do?!” Clint yelped.

“Apparently before the invasion? Thor got banished here for a couple of days and picked up a girlfriend. She’s studying the… didn’t you know this?”

“No, how would I know any of this? I mean I knew about the banished part.” _Having been there and all._

“She worked with Selvig. S.H.I.E.L.D. snatched her and hid her for the duration of the invasion. They thought Loki would go after her, I guess.”

“No. I was the one he had looking people up. He never mentioned her. Did he even know?”

“SHIT! They didn’t TELL you?”

Clint smiled dourly, “Ooooh yeah, they’re trying to kill me. Whatever it is, they didn’t tell me.”

“Apparently Loki knew about the whole time Thor was banished to earth. The whole time. So that includes his girlfriend… and that’s how he knew about Selvig. Selvig and Foster both dealt with Thor.”

Clint shook his head. “He never mentioned her. Never asked. He seemed stiff with Selvig at first, and then… then he was just dealing with him like everyone else.”

“I won’t say I hadn’t heard rumors… about how he treated you guys. Especially with Selvig being half crazy…”

“No.”

“I’m just saying, I’ve been there… and I don’t report to S.H.i.E.L.D.”

Clint sighed. “You haven’t been there, Tony; not unless the terrorists managed to make you think they were the center of your world; had your absolute loyalty from the time they touched you with the magic stick.”

“Uh huh… but he didn’t.”

“The fuck do you mean he DIDN’T?”

“If he had, Fury would have been dead, right? You don’t miss. So he had you, sure… but not enough to make you kill someone you… gave a shit about killing.” Tony poured a drink. “I mean, I may think not killing Fury is a stupid call, but it CLEARLY was the call you made. Otherwise? He’d be dead. Your magical loyalty to Loki meant you had to drop him… but you didn’t HAVE to kill him, so you didn’t.”

Clint sat there blinking. _I… chose… not to kill him. Because I didn’t WANT to kill him. Why the hell hadn’t any of the counselors ever…_ _I could choose the less lethal option, and I did. Just like with the eyeball. I didn’t kill because I didn’t WANT to…._

“Yo, earth to Clint… you ok?” Tony looked worried.

“Why didn’t I see that?”

“Look, I’m not saying he didn’t have you controlled, he did! But-“

Clint grabbed him and kissed him– hard.

Tony sat there blinking. _Damn, the guy knew how to kiss- a bit rough around the edges, but good natural talent there and… interest._

Clint broke off the kiss and jerked back. “OH, oh geez. Oh geez Stark, I’m sorry… I know you don’t… shit.”

Tony grinned at him. Clint braced for the insults and slurs, and just hoped they could go back to being friends afterwards.

“Before I say anything else… I take it what I said is a GOOD thing?”

Clint blinked and looked utterly bewildered. Tony had to suppress a laugh.

“Clint, dude, birdbrain... I have NO IDEA what you’re thinking: I’m a genius, not a mind reader. I take it that it’s a GOOD thing, not an ‘Oh fuck, I broke the hawk’?”

“Yeah. Yeah it is. I’d been… Natasha told me what he threatened her with. Loki…”-he gulped- “Loki never, ever, asked me to do anything TO anyone. Seriously. Never. Just ‘we need a distraction’, or ‘we need a safehouse’, or ‘we need this metal’. I don’t think he really would have had me do ANYTHING to Nat.” He ducked his head down hard and his voice got a lot quieter, “But I was afraid I would have if… if she hadn’t snapped me out of it.”

“You think… that you would FAIL to kill that Fury asshole, but you would hurt NATASHA?”

“It does kind of sound stupid when you say it that way.”

“And none of your psychs ever…”

“Mostly they made it worse.”

Tony looked grimly at Clint. “I have business today, later, so I have to go out, but I want to get this straight with you, ‘cause I get the feeling you may be almost as bad as I am about dealing with people.”

“What?”

Tony pulled him in and kissed him.

Clint’s mind tried to pull some coherent thoughts together, gave up, threw ‘thinking’ out the window, and let his body took over. He plastered himself against Tony. Tony let himself be pulled in, but didn’t stop what he was doing. Tony moved his mouth down to Clint’s neck and did utterly, gloriously wonderful things.

_He’s a vampire. He’s draining my life out of my neck and I don’t even CARE._

Eventually Tony pulled away. Clint grabbed the counter for support.

“FUCK!” Clint stared, awestruck and pupils blown, at Tony.

Tony just sat there smirking at him like the cat that had the canary with a side of cream and a mouse chaser.

“So…” Tony said casually, “Like I said, I have a meeting… and then another meeting, and a bunch of stuff to sign somewhere in there… and I’ll be back tonight. If you’re still interested? Let me know.”

And the bastard sauntered off to his room like nothing had happened.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had a for real nightmare. no where near as bad as theirs, and i already dread sleeping.


	3. The Little Mermaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Little Mermaid as an allegory of loneliness in a crowd....  
> consent talk, and male bonding.

Clint kept looking at his neck in reflective surfaces. He had a hickey that looked like a fucking hawk silhouette: it was a bit blurry, but it was pretty obvious what it was. The bastard had been in control enough to leave a perfectly clear bruise-tattoo on his neck, and Clint had been an incoherent mess: he still wanted to go jerk off whenever he touched it.

Tony wasn’t into guys. He wasn’t. He’d gone through the entire Maxim’s calendar and a few spare swimsuit models for Christ’s sake! He’d said he’d be back tonight and to let him know if I was still interested. Clint fell onto the sofa and moaned into a pillow. This was so fucked up. This was just another Tony joke, right?

Right?

He tried pacing but his leg hurt after a while, so he sat back down to play video games. Eventually, his arm hurt too much, so he had Jarvis load up a few movies. He’d talk to Natasha, she’d know what to-

Oh, of course, right, and fuck my life: Natasha had to go on assignment.

By the time Tony got home, Clint was as tense as a pulled bow.

Tony had checked with Jarvis before coming back home. Apparently Clint hadn’t eaten, so Tony picked up some food on the way. He’d been tempted to get shawarma, but didn’t want to bring up the wrong ideas.

“Yo, Clint! Eat something!” Tony grinned as the archer damn near levitated off the sofa.

“Tony, look about this morning…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony smirked, “And come eat before it gets cold.”

“Uh... tell you what?” Clint edged over to the food. Shit, that smelled awesome.

“That you were gay.” Tony blinked. “Or are you bi?”

“Uh… what makes you think…”

“That closet must be awfully crowded, bird brain,” Tony snorted.

“Gay,” Clint mumbled.

Tony put a beer down for each of them. “So: Natasha? If you tell me she’s actually a guy, I’m going to cry.”

“Huh? No! She’s… she’s Nat!”

“So…. you two aren’t?”

“No,” Clint winced. “Phil… Agent Coulson suggested we let everyone think we were together that way. It kept people from bothering either of us, and it… neither of us sleeps well alone.” Clint sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “We try to encourage the rumors.”

“I wouldn’t have a chance with her, even if I wanted to, would I?”

“No. I mean, she’ll have sex with you if it’s a job.”

“Ugh, no. Enthusiastic consent or nothing, the only way to play.” _Tried it the other way, never again._

“You like girls. That’s not even a rumor, there’s video...”

“Well, first of all, at least one of those videos was me discrediting a reporter by making it pretty obvious she was just a disgruntled ex.” Tony opened another beer and handed it to Clint. “Secondly, I’m pan.”

“Uh... thanks... what?” He sipped his beer.

“I don’t give a shit what parts you have.” Tony shrugged. “Are you legally able to consent, enthusiastic, and not gonna stab me in the back? Cool!”

“Oh.” Clint then thought again about this morning. “Oh!” He looked at Tony, ”I don’t want to wreck a good thing; if sex is gonna mess up being friends.”

“I’m still friends with Pepper, and that… THAT was a messy break up.”

“You’re…” Clint’s hand came up to his neck and touched the bruise. He shifted his hand to rub the back of his neck again.

“Awesome in bed. Yes,” Tony grinned. “So, like I said: if you’re interested, let me know.”

“I thought I was… letting you know.”

“Dude, given the life I lead, and the money I have? Nuh uh,” Tony shook his head, but he was still grinning. “I want clear consent. Or at least you making a move on ME.”

Clint grinned back. “Lawsuits?”

“Tons. No one’s been able to get one to stick in years; learned my lesson the hard way. If nothing else, we record a safeword discussion, that way I can pin you down and make you scream my name without having to get verbal consent every time.”

Clint’s mind stuttered at the picture and his hand drifted back to his neck. “You couldn’t hold me down without your suit…”

“Wanna bet?”

“No way. I’m stronger than you.”

“You up for me trying?”

“Been up for it since you kissed me and left me hanging, you bastard,” Clint admitted, finishing his beer.

“Any limits I should know about?”

“My arm and leg are still sore?”

“That’s IT? I kind of figured you might have issues with being restrained or something…”

“Oh, huh... I see your point.” Clint thought about it. “I have issues with being restrained and HURT, so… yeah, if we wanted to do anything with electricity, burns, or sharp objects, we need to discuss it again, but… just being restrained by hands is ok…. Handcuffs are not sexy; they remind me of Nat.”

“They…? Right, whatever,” Tony nodded. “Restraints are usually a no go, but hands are ok. Electricity is ‘detailed discussion in advance’, and don’t come near me with anything hot. Don’t cut off my airway, or forcibly cover my mouth with anything but a kiss: that’s ok. I have an issue with water, too.”

Clint blinked a lot. “Water?”

“Terrorists don’t play with safewords.”

Clint dropped it immediately; he knew a lot of ways to hurt people with water, and the airway issue told him a lot more. He hadn’t known Tony had been through that much.

“Are you ok being held down? I mean what if I end up on top?” Clint asked, since he was obviously stronger than Tony.

“Usually, we should set up some safewords just in case. Mine’s Apple.”

“Apple? Only you would use a competitors name as a safeword,” Clint grinned. “Ok, I can use that one too.”

“Food first, then a movie, then sex.”

“You want me to wait through a MOVIE?!”

“No, I want the food to settle; being puked on sucks.”

Clint didn’t think he was going to be able to sit through a movie, and expected Tony to pick something sex related… Tony set up popcorn, a platter of cheese and crackers, and more beer.

“Home Alone?!” Clint sputtered.

“What, I loved that movie.”

“It’s stupid; no kid could set traps like that!”

“Robot, age 14.” Tony raised his hand.

“No NORMAL kid.”

“It’s a MOVIE!”

“What about The Bourne Legacy?“ Clint suggested.

“You just like that one because Renner looks like you.”

“I don’t look anything LIKE that guy,” Clint snorted, even though he thought he did.

“Sherlock?”

“Oh, right, the Robert Downey, Jr. one? Who’s watching movies because the actor looks like them now?”

“RDJ is a very nice guy and a good actor; the fact that he happens to also be extremely good looking is a coincidence… Besides, you and Natasha asked me if we could buy him, and Natasha mentioned the movie.”

They somehow ended up watching The Little Mermaid. Clint wasn’t sure he even wanted to know why Tony had that one on the ‘recently watched’ list.

A lot of popcorn and beer later…

“NO!!!! Never make a deal with the witch!!!” Tony yelled at the screen.

“Did you ever wonder why a super powerful witch like that is all locked up by Poseidon but the princess can still get there?” Clint muttered several minutes later.

…

After yelling about idiot romances and how they have nothing in common for a few minutes, Tony went and got more beer. “I wanna know why she’s so hung up on that dude anyway. What’s with all the surface stuff she collects?” he asked, handing Clint a fresh beer.

“OCD,” Clint nodded. “Hoarding behavior. She doesn’t even know what it does. If this was real, betcha the prince ends up locked in her collection cabinet, with like an air hose?”

“Duuuuuuude, yeah. That would be a way better movie… where Ariel slowly goes more and more insane, and starts trying to drag sailors to their dooms because she is trying to figure out how to KEEP one…”

…

They were still fantasy casting the Little Mermaid horror movie as they staggered to Tony’s bedroom.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may be based, loosely, off some discussions i have had with my friends....


	4. Forbidden Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get a glimpse into Clint's nightmares...

Once they got to Tony’s bedroom Clint started trying to get Tony out of his clothes. I mean it seemed like the obvious thing to do, right?

“Woah, there, Roadrunner,” Tony grinned at him.

“Roadrunner? That doesn’t even make sense. Do they even fly?”

“No clue, but neither of us is sober enough right now, so how about a nap?”

Clint stared at him. Narrowed his eyes. “Are you shitting me? Is this your way of saying ‘just kidding’ because if it is-“

“Nononononoo!!! Seriously,   second time sloppy drunk, sure: FIRST time sloppy drunk is only for one night stands I never have to see again.”

Clint looked dubiously at him.

“Simple, pull off the outer wear, cuddle up in bed with me, and if you aren’t too hungover in the morning, I know a great way to get the blood going that doesn’t involve coffee.” He paused. “Ok it involves coffee afterwards.” Tony pulled off his shoes, and stripped to his underwear; he apparently wore his T-shirt to bed, too.

Clint, still feeling like this was some kind of a trick, did likewise.

That’s when he found out that for Tony, ‘cuddle’ apparently meant ‘if two bodies get any closer they will actually occupy the same spot’: in other words, Tony was an octopus.

TONY apparently dropped off to sleep instantly. Clint wasn’t used to sleeping with him, so he had a lot of trouble falling asleep: strange bedmate, strange bed… but eventually….

…

Clint tried to fight it, but he was falling into that perfect blue clarity. Everything was so very simple, and you knew you could trust everyone because their eyes were the same color…

Loki was there, of course. Sometimes Clint wondered if he could trust him: his eyes weren’t as bright a blue; sometimes they weren’t blue at all. Someone kept yelling at Loki when he meditated and made his reports; that wasn’t good, no one should argue… everyone should just be blue.

Loki put his hand on Clint’s head and told him to sleep. He was a good commander, making them eat, and sleep. Clint went to sleep.

…

Tony had one of those nightmares where you thought you woke up. He even knew it was a nightmare because Loki was there, but he had those boots on, so maybe it was ok? Tony tried to get up and go hug the boots but he couldn’t move.

Ah, paralysis nightmare: that happens when you’re partly awake but your brain was still trying to dream; that explained a lot.

Dream Loki asked him, “Why are you in bed with Agent Barton?”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

Tony looked down and– oh yeah! Clint was there. Drooling on his t-shirt, awesome. “We haven’t had sex yet.” He nodded. “We will when I wake up.”

Loki looked kind of amused, “Well, THAT wasn’t anything I imagined coming out of this.”

Tony giggled, “You’re my subconscious? No… you’re probably my Id… yeah, that makes sense, my Id always wanted to be a supervillain, Ids do that. But you’re hot? Why do I think you’re hot anyway?”

“I’m… hot?”

“Sexy. I mean I always knew you were attractive but… Ooooh I get it! I’m finally gonna have sex with Clint, so my dreams are being all kinds of angsty and throwing out an attraction to the villain in the story.” He nodded. “That makes sense.”

“You make even less sense awake than in your dreams, Stark,” Loki snorted.

“Well at least I’m not imagining the S.H.I.E.L.D. psych team to be sexy at me… although I think I heard you can’t make up a face in your dream that you’ve never seen? Anyway, sexy S.H.I.E.L.D. psychologists sounds kind of impossible.” Tony shuddered, “That would turn into a nightmare fast.”

Loki shook his head and leaned against the edge of the dresser. “Why would you imagine that?”

“Well, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been trying to kill Clint… so –“

“Wait! What?”

Tony stared blearily at him. “Wow, my dream is weird. Still beats all the torture dreams, though.”

“Later, Stark… S.H.I.E.L.D. is trying to kill Barton? Why?”

“For being compromised? Because they don’t trust him? Because they’re assholes who don’t believe he was mind controlled?” Tony started to sweat. “Geez, this is a weird nightmare.”

Loki strode forward and placed his hand on Clint’s head, which was drooling into Tony’s shoulder. Clint whimpered.

“No...” Tony shut his eyes, and re-opened them fast. “Please… please don’t.”

Loki frowned up at him, “You were telling the truth.”

“Please don’t hurt him, I’ll be good.” Tony felt the world crumble away… It wasn’t like the usual nightmare where he would just be IN Afghanistan or something, this was exactly like a panic attack.

“Not the water, no... Please...” Tony couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. There was a weight on his chest and Yinsen was Clint and they were going to come back with the water or the electricity and –

He was bodily hauled up by his arms, strong hands under his armpits to drag him away and all he could do was shudder and beg... “No, please, no more, please…”

He distantly heard someone shouting at him. They were shaking him.

And then suddenly he was COLD.

His body seized and he gasped and looked up and it was just Loki, looking angry and... um… his hands were blue.

“What?”

Loki’s green eyes filled up his vision. “You are very, very tired, Stark. You had a nightmare, but it’s over now. Do you understand?”

“…y-yes?” Tony felt his body get heavier and his eyes start to close.

“It was a nightmare, Stark, you said so. Something about the Id being a villain…”

…

Tony woke up on the floor, with someone tugging on his arm.

“Wha?” he mumbled, and then sat up so fast that he cracked his head into Clint, who was trying to help him sit up.

“OW! Motherfucker!” Clint said reeling backward rubbing at his jaw.

“Owwww…” Tony whined rubbing his head.

Clint sat down next to him. “I woke up and you were gone, I guess I must have woken up because you got up, but I found you on the floor next to the bed.”

“Shit, really?” His mouth tasted like a science experiment and day old coffee- and don’t ask how he knew what that tasted like. “Jarvis?”

“Sir? There was a minor glitch-“

“Fuck that. Lights, and start the coffee.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony looked apologetic at Clint, “Uh… really bizarre nightmare-dream –thing, morning breath, and a cracked skull: can we move ‘really hot gay Avenger sex’ to the afternoon time slot?”

Clint stared at him trying to be mad, but he finally just cracked up laughing. “Yeah, I need to ice my jaw anyway or you’re never getting that blowjob.”

“Jarvis, you heard the man, it’s an emergency, ICE!” His eyes crinkled up when he laughed, which was a bad idea because OW his head hurt.

Tony staggered off to the bathroom.

When he came out and headed for the kitchen, Clint muttered, “Right there” and ducked in to take his turn.

By the time Clint got out to the kitchenette, there were two big mugs of coffee, and a big bowl of overly sugared kids’ breakfast cereal waiting.

“Shit, you gonna EAT that?” Clint stared at the pastel colored marshmallows that seemed to make up eighty percent of the cereal. “You’ll be bouncing off the ceiling!”

“Yup.”

“Can I have some?”

Tony pushed the box over at him with a grin. “All part of my evil plot.”

“What evil plot?”

“I dunno. Everyone seems to be convinced I have one, so it must be part of my evil plot.”

Clint nodded, “Makes sense.”

“Ok, I have a system, see?” Tony said over a mouthful of marshmallow cereal. “Nightmares call for drinking or lab time, but if I start drinking now I won’t be fit to have sex later today, and dude, you are HOT looking and I plan on ravishing you until you can’t stand on your good leg, so… lab time it is!”

Clint took a few seconds to process all that, but when he did he started to flush.

“Ooooooh! And you BLUSH!”

“I do not, Stark, shut it!” Clint growled.

“Blushing!” Tony crowed at him

“Flushing! Because sex! Not blushing!!!!” Clint protested.

“Anyway, I’ll head to my lab, and you come get me for lunch, and we eat a LIGHT no-puking-during-sexy-times lunch– so no pizza– and then we see how many different ways I can get you to scream ‘Tony’. So talk to Jarvis about lunch options, ok?”

And   by the time Clint had processed THAT whirlwind speech, Tony was gone.

Clint made arrangements with Jarvis for what Tony considered a ‘light easily digestible high protein lunch’. It kind of boggled him that Tony apparently had a LIST on file with Jarvis of foods that he could eat that wouldn’t get in the way of very strenuous sex.

He then spent the entire morning staring into mirrors at his neck, and trying not to jerk off.

At precisely twelve noon the food was delivered, and Clint went down to the lab to get Tony.

Jarvis told him, “It will be difficult to extract him, because he is ‘in the zone’ as he says.”

Clint found that Jarvis was right. Tony got grumpy and kept waving him off, muttering about projects and some kind of science babble Clint didn’t understand.

“Tony, the food is here.”

“I’ll eat later.”

“Tony, you promised me incredibly hot sex.”

“Sex later, I’m making progress,” Tony muttered.

Clint frowned, “I will get Justin Beiber’s agent on the line and tell him you’re a big fan and you want to give him a PERSONAL tour of the tower.”

Tony spun and stared at him. “You…“ He narrowed his eyes. “You’re bluffing.”

Clint nodded, “Yes, I am, but Natasha might do it if she found out you broke my heart.”

Tony looked a bit paler. “Dirty pool, Pigeon.”

“Yup.”

Tony shut down the lab and they went back up to eat. Jarvis declared it a speed record for extracting an unwilling Tony under non -combat situations, and Tony had to order him not to tell Pepper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Monsters from the ID" is a line from (and a topic from) the movie, Forbidden Planet


	5. No more words…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally

Clint was actually starting to get really unsettled and nervous by the end of lunch. The constant ‘sex with Tony/no sex with Tony’ was making him feel really uncertain.

“You… really aren’t just yanking my chain, right?”

Tony just grinned. He walked over, grabbed Clint by the shirt collar and pulled him in for a kiss that made their first kiss seem virginal. Then he started going down Clint’s neck, and ending up at the hollow of his throat, where he started nipping …

“Mmmmmph! O mmmmmmmmmmm Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” Clint didn’t even believe the noises he was making; he was normally a very quiet guy in bed– apparently not with Tony.

Tony pulled back and looked at Clint solemnly, “So, was any of that supposed to be ‘stop’ or anything? Because I wouldn’t want to impose…”

Clint swore violently in three languages and tried to rip Tony’s shirt off.

Tony laughed, “Right, so I’m clearly imposing on your personal space… probably gonna get a letter from your lawyer, right?” while he peeled Clint out of his clothes with practiced ease.

Clint was still trying to get him out of what were apparently two layers of T-shirt, while Tony had already stripped Clint down to his skin.

“Fuck you, if you don’t actually follow through and screw me I will find a way to shoot you, I swear!”

Tony snickered, “So… that would be enthusiastic consent, but with a side order of threats…” – Tony started doing insanely incredible things to Clint’s back and rear with his hands, and it was driving Clint crazy because Tony was still wearing CLOTHES– “hmmm… yeah, ok, I can get off on that… so, tell me,” –Tony pushed Clint down into a chair and dropped to his knees– “any last requests? Because you’re gonna stop talking sense now…”

“FUuuuuck! Just DO-“ Clint was howling in protest when Tony put his mouth to work, and yes, indeed, that was the last time anything resembling coherent speech happened from Clint for a while.

Tony, on the other hand, couldn’t shut up.

Having his mouth full didn’t seem to stop him, it just meant he hummed, or made wet sounds, and saved words for when he pulled back to do more with his hands.

“You are so gorgeous, you know?” Tony said as he switched positions.

“I knew your arms were great,” Tony traced the muscles in Clint’s abs with his tongue before he headed back down, “but your abs are incredible too.”

Tony made approving noises without words as he deep throated him. All Clint could do was moan, scream, and clutch at Tony’s hair sort of randomly; luckily, Tony seemed to like his hair pulled.

Clint came–too soon, as far as he was concerned- and Tony SWALLOWED it, and kept up with his tongue cleaning him off.

Clint managed to say, “Oh God, Tony…”

Tony looked up with an absolutely EVIL gleam in his eye, “Oooooh that’s a challenge, talking already? I’m gonna fix that, Birdie…”

Tony pulled Clint down to the floor. Somewhere in the back of his brain Clint noticed that Tony also pulled a couple of small throw pillows down and tucked them under his head and lower back-and they were apparently the perfect size for that.

“Tony, that… that was incredible...”

“Hmm… more words? In the right order, even? I’m slipping…”

Tony had a tube of lube. Clint had no idea where that came from-magic, for all he cared- and proceeded to slip a finger into him. One finger wasn’t anything, I mean it was pleasant and all but no way was-

“God! Oh my… Ga…Aaah! To-“ and Clint was back to incoherent babbles and moans.

Tony started biting at the muscles in his side and doing things with… some number of fingers, Clint couldn’t tell anymore. Clint felt like he was on fire, or electrified, or… or fuck words, there were no words, just random noises that happened to come out.

“So….”–Tony sounded perfectly coherent, if a bit throatier than usual– “Can you scream ‘Tony’ for me?”

Clint tried. He was fairly certain something close to that came out of his mouth. He also said ‘God’ and ‘more’ but he wasn’t sure in what language.

Tony moved Clint’s legs carefully. Somehow he found a position that didn’t hurt his bad leg, and moved up. Clint moaned desperately when he pulled his hand away.

“Beautiful, you’re just all muscle and your nose scrunches up so adorably when you smile, did you know that?” Tony murmured in his ear as he pushed into him.

Clint tried to say anything; he might have managed a weak “Tony”, as he was looking up into the most focused and intent brown eyes in the world. He felt like he was transparent, like Tony could see right through him. He closed his eyes; it was too much.

“Aw, no Clint, look at me,” Tony whispered. “Your eyes are like Malibu beach in the morning, they’re beautiful, I want to see your eyes as you come.”

He tried to keep his eyes open. Tony stared right into his eyes as he fucked him over the edge and back. The world was on fire and he felt like every nerve in his body was lit up. Tony came down and kissed the air out of him, and Clint distantly felt him spasm inside of him.

Afterwards, Tony resumed talking.

“You look so perfect when you come. Your mouth just begging to be kissed…” Tony was kissing him again, little kisses between words, as Clint slowly came down. “Next time we have to actually get to the bed, don’t we?”

“Bed?” Clint blinked a few times. Right, they were on the floor, weren’t they?

“Yeah, bed. I have a nice, big, soft bed,” Tony chuckled. “I also have a sofa, we watched movies on it, but I don’t suggest it given your injuries: I’ve fallen off the sofa before.”

“How… the fuck…”

Tony smirked, “Well, when two guys do it-“

Clint tried to hit him; it sort of worked, his arm was a bit noodle-like. “Talking! You!”

“Ooooh…” Tony feigned innocence and pulled out of him, “How am I talking coherently? I do that. All the time. You guys complained, in fact.”

Tony leaned forward and nipped at Clint’s collar bone; Clint moaned and arched into Tony’s body.

“Yeah, that’s better. You were way too put together at first there; I was starting to think you didn’t like it.”

Clint sputtered at him, “You… “ He threw insults, and a few random words, at him.

“I’m a chair?” Tony frowned, “I’m pretty certain at least one of those words was chair…”

“FUCK YOU!” Clint howled.

“Again? Ok, but first we get to the bed, I’m getting too old for floors.”

Tony got up, complaining the entire time. “Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Get the floor cleaned up, thanks.”

He pulled Clint up and slipped an arm around his waist to help him walk. Clint wasn’t feeling any pain right now, that was for sure.

“Endorphins...” Clint muttered, “Gotta love ‘em”

Tony grinned, “Even better with adrenaline, isn’t it?” as they walked to the bedroom.

“Yeah…”

“Well for right now? Just plain old vanilla, but once I don’t have to worry about re-injuring you? We can get a bit wilder.”

Clint froze, “That… wasn’t …”

Tony shoved him onto the bed and snickered, “No, that wasn’t.”

Tony didn’t let him think clearly enough to ask anything else until dinner.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony did say he was awesome in bed.... but admittedly days of frustration and tension will help build that up.


	6. Lonely in a crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has some serious insecurities. Both of them have issues.  
>  Also i will remind you that this story opened up with him having had a very recent breakup with Pepper.

Sometime part way through dinner, Clint’s mind cleared enough to start asking questions.

“So, um… All the rumors I heard about, have you, like, not even knowing anyone’s name later…”

Tony just raised an eyebrow at him.

“But... I mean, you… “ He rubbed the back of his neck. _This was awkward as fuck, damn_. “I mean... you say some amazing things…”

Tony laughed, “I don’t say stuff like that to just ANYONE, Clint.”

“Oh. I mean, good! I mean, that was incredible and embarrassing and…”

“Clint, in all seriousness? You’re smoking hot. I probably would’ve hit on you earlier if you’d been around and I didn’t think you were with Natasha,” Tony said seriously, “but you have to understand a few things. Ok?”

Clint braced himself for a brush off. “Yeah?”

“I’m a complete jackass sometimes. It’ll happen. I’ll go from you being the center of the world, to wandering off cursing into a cell phone and screaming at lab equipment. I will forget your birthday–hell, I won’t ever remember it, Jarvis does that- I will miss dates, and I will go from zero to fucking asshole faster than an ex-wife with PMS.”

Tony looked at him sadly, “And as much as I try to not do it? It never works. I was maybe the best I’d ever been with Pepper, and I was still an inconsiderate screaming bastard pretty often. You’re gonna put up with me for a while because, let’s face it, the sex is awesome and I’m rich, but eventually you’re gonna break up with me for your own sanity. I just want you to know I understand.”

“Say what?!” This was absolutely not what Clint had expected. “Do you give everyone the big break up in advance speech? Or just me?”

“Um… I don’t actually have a lot of people I had long term relationships with, but… most of them?”

“First of all, yeah, the sex is insanely incredible. I don’t understand why you don’t have like a sobbing heap of one night stands out in the hallways begging you to go for a second round.”

Tony looked very pleased at him.

“Rich? I admit it’s convenient, but you can’t buy me like that. I showed up because you offered me a safe place to stay, and maybe being rich let you do that, but it never had to be a penthouse, or a whole floor, or anything… just a safe, dry, reasonably warm place to stay with no one trying to kill me is awesome! That’s really all I asked for.”

Tony looked dubious, “Your standards are way too low.”

“Maybe you got too used to hanging around cheap, money grubbing whores.”

Tony grinned, “Clint, your socio-economic background is showing. I hang around with very expensive, gold-digging, social climbing models, socialites, and escorts.”

Clint blinked a lot. “Yeah, well I’m not after you for your money.”

“As far as I know, none of my long terms were ever after me for the money… well, not since college. It just makes it a lot easier to buy ‘sorry I was an asshole at you’ presents. Eventually, though–“

“TONY!”

“What?”

“I already knew you were an asshole sometimes walking into this, ok?”

“So did Pepper. She thought she could handle it, but eventually-“

“If I worried about ‘eventually’ too much in my line of work I’d get killed. Can we focus on ‘I have a few weeks before I can be cleared to go back to work’ levels of planning?”

They ended up cuddled –Tony practically inside Clint’s skin– on the sofa watching movies.

“You’re, um…” Clint said during a snack break.

“Awesome? Annoying? Sounds like…?”

“Cuddly… I wasn’t expecting that– you never seemed the sort before.”

“You want the flip answer or the ‘it took me a while to figure this out’ answer?”

“I want the real one or none of them.”

Tony took a while; Clint figured he didn’t want to answer, but eventually he did.

“There aren’t many people I trust enough to get close to, so I don’t get a lot of touching; when I do get it, I tend to go overboard.”

Clint stared at him. “I’m supposed to be the paranoid sniper; you’re the rich playboy.”

“Huh?”

“Shouldn’t that be my line?”

“I dunno, you don’t seem to have a lot of people you cuddle up with either, but you and Natasha are almost always touching. I kind of thought it was the same thing.”

Clint thought about that. “But you have a lot of friends…”

Tony laughed so hard beer came out of his nose. He laughed so hard Clint started to worry about calling medical.

Eventually Tony wheezed, “Warn a guy before you say stuff like that.”

“Uh, I take it you DON’T have a lot of friends?”

“Name one.” Tony grinned and Clint was beginning to see that that wasn’t always as cheerful a look as he thought. “I’ll give you Pepper as a head start.”

Clint thought about the Avengers: until recently he hadn’t known Nat or Clint very well, so, not them; Rogers and Tony obviously didn’t get along– “Bruce…”

“Bruce? Maybe. I like him, that’s for sure. That said, he isn’t AROUND much, you know? And that makes it difficult, but ok, I’ll grant you that one: Bruce.”

“I wasn’t counting Nat and me, because you didn’t know us all that well, although I hope that’s changing.”

“Granted. Anyone else?”

“That other guy with the armor?”

“Rhodey? The guy who found me dying and in pain and hit me and stole the armor I wanted to leave him as an inheritance? Oddly enough, he may still come close to being a friend. I think he means well, but no, I don’t trust him anymore.”

“He… what?”

“Long story, later. Anyone else?”

“All those parties, all those people...”

“Not friends. Never, ever mistake those people for friends–they’ll tear you apart.”

“I guess no one at S.H.I.E.L.D. huh?”

Tony choked on his beer again. “You’re a real comedian, aren’t you?”

“Seriously? That’s… that’s it?”

“No. There’s a nice waitress out in the middle of nowhere, a couple of young, up-and-coming scientists I know, a few people online that probably don’t know I’m Tony Stark, but I bet if I needed someplace to stay they’d let me crash on their couch…” Tony laughed, “And maybe, MAYBE, a few other people I don’t want to mention right now, but… let’s face it, even if they are friends, I hardly ever see them.” Tony sipped his beer. “I tend to build my friends.” He raised his beer in the direction of the ceiling and then waved off in what Clint supposed was the direction of his lab. “Other than that? All my other friends are dead, now.”

“So are most of mine.”

After a long pause, Tony spoke up again, “Well, shit, that was depressing. Sex?”

“Give me a few? That was kind of a boner killer on my end, too.”

They had just gotten into the movie again when Jarvis interrupted, “Sir?”

“Yes, Jarvis?”

“Another of the Avengers is accessing the tower elevators. They have asked me to tell you they are on their way up.”

Tony buried his head in his hands. “It’s Capsicle, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, sir. Captain Rogers will be arriving momentarily.”

Clint looked thoughtful, “Should we, you know, get dressed? I’m mostly wearing underwear.”

“Why bother, he’ll come up with something he disapproves of.”

They wouldn’t have had time anyway: the elevator door opened less than a minute later.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The choice of language of the characters is not (usually) the authors.


	7. It’s not easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Clint get an unexpected visitor in Captain America, Steve Rogers. Then things get strange.  
> Welcome to the opening salvos of "The Winter Soldier" (given that some things must be different in this universe)

The elevator opened and there was Steve Rogers, Captain America, managing to look wholesome and All American in khaki pants, a button down shirt, and a sports jacket.

He froze as he took in the beers, the leftover dinner, and finally the two mostly naked Avengers.

“Hey Cap, nice of you to join us without calling first,” said Tony, waving the movie remote. “Want a beer?”

Clint cleared his throat and waved his injured arm. “Hi.”

“I… I didn’t know Barton was staying here.” 

Clint looked disbelieving at him, “What, you mean S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t send you here to find out why I was here, or where I was going, or something? Tell me another one, Rogers.”

“I get the impression that I haven’t been briefed enough.” Steve rubbed his forehead tiredly, “Again.”

Tony cocked a quizzical eyebrow at him. “What, the powers that be don’t give you all the information they have? I’m shocked. Shocked!”

Unexpectedly, Steve grinned.  It did make him look about 12, but he looked genuinely happy. “Gambling! In Casablanca. Tsk.”

Clint almost fell off the sofa. Tony looked dumbfounded.

“I do watch movies, Tony.  Just because I can’t catch up on all of them at once…”

Tony blinked several times and settled back, “Well, my Casablanca is your Casablanca… what’s up?”

“Well… I…” He walked over and sat down on the chair facing the sofa. “Before I get to that, Barton? What… you got hurt?”

“I got hung out to dry with no back up, again. Now I’m out of commission until I heal up and Tony is very kindly putting me up.”

Steve looked at him without much expression for a while. “Can you explain that? I… I really need to know, this… I’ve been having some problems with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Clint just stared at him. 

Tony raised an eyebrow at him and grinned suddenly, “Oh? What did you do, question orders?”

“Apparently a lot of people don’t want me asking questions at all.  The psychiatrists-“

Clint swore vehemently.

“Clint has been having ongoing issues with the psych department.” Tony nodded at Steve, “You too?”

“They… look, at first I just figured they were doing their best, but… it actually seems like they are TRYING to keep me from catching up on things.  Lately I found out they got very upset when I started looking things up on the internet…” Steve looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. “I’m getting really tired of being kept in the dark.  I don’t like being ‘steered’ and it feels like that’s what’s going on.”

Tony disentangled himself from Clint, said, “Hang on.”  and walked out.

Clint looked sympathetically at Steve.  “Sorry to hear that. Coul-“ Clint steeled his voice, _he would not shake dammit_. “Coulson wouldn’t have put up with this, but since he’s been gone it’s been bad.”

“Hung out to dry?” Steve nodded at the braces and cast.

“Too many sit-reps don’t match the facts, and you call for back up and it’s never there.” Clint threw back the rest of the glass of beer. “A lot of guys… a lot of people in S.H.I.E.L.D. are still blaming me for what Loki had me do.” He looked up at Steve’s blue eyes. _Not as blue as certainty_. “The psych department was not helping me much with it either. Tony’s been more help in a couple days than they have in months.”

“I’m glad.”

There was a pause in which neither of them said anything.  Then Tony walked back in with a tech bag.

“Capsicle, you’re bugged.  The tower shields block it, but you have at least one tracer and a listening device on you.”

Clint tried to jump to his feet, which was a drastic mistake; luckily Steve caught him.

“Can you find it?  I left my cell phone at home.  They don’t seem too surprised when I do that. I assumed it was bugged.”

“Yup.”

It wasn’t hard to find.

“They put this” ‑Tony held up a small tube shaped object‑ “in the  art bag you tote around.  Just slid it in between the lining and the outer fabric, easy.”

Steve got a hard look and the muscles in his jaw tensed.

“The other one appears to be in your shoes, Cap. Want to hand those over?”

Tony neatly and efficiently retrieved a small item from the sole of Steve’s shoes. “Here you go.”

Clint looked at them. “Both S.H.I.E.L.D standard, although other agencies use  something similar.”

Steve nodded. “Then I have some people to talk to.”

Clint waved a hand, “Hold up.”

Steve stopped. “Why?”

“First of all, if you go storming in yelling they will just tell you it was for your own protection, that there was a threat against you, shit like that.”

“Was there?”

“Oh, probably. Everyone gets threats.  But that’s not why they did it. You’re a resource, and they don’t HAVE anything on you. Nothing to keep you in line.” Clint shrugged, “But you better believe they want to keep an eye on you.  Just don’t go in without a plan.”

Steve nodded slowly.

Tony looked pointedly off to the ceiling, “NOT that I believe I am saying this, but you could move in here until you get your feet under you. We have other living spaces in the tower.”

Steve smiled slightly, “Thanks, Tony. I know you don’t really want me around, but its nice of you to offer.”

Tony shrugged. “I mean it.  You may be a… Anyway, you may be annoying but this sort of crap is nothing to put up with.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Memorize this.” Tony rattled off a few phone numbers. “Those will get through to me or Pepper or Jarvis. Don’t enter them into a bugged phone if you can help it.”

“Got it,” Steve nodded and stood up. “Thanks.”

He gathered up his things, including the bugs. “I don’t want them to know I found out, just yet.”

Clint called after him as he headed to the door. “I’ll contact Natasha.  Have her get to you, she’s… really good at living privately even if you’re being watched. Talk to her before it gets too hot, ok?”

Steve nodded.  They both noticed that he wasn’t standing up as straight when he left as he had been when he came in.

After he was gone, Clint commented, “That was nice of you Tony.”

“Yeah, well… If he’s finally started to think for himself, maybe he’ll turn out ok.” Tony started to turn the movie back on.

“Sir?” Jarvis interjected. “I was waiting until Captain Rogers left to bring a news item to your attention.”

“Huh?” Tony said distractedly. “Is it important?”

“It was recently put on your ‘Keep an eye on’ list, Sir.”

“Ok, bring it up.”

He and Clint looked curiously as the Television screen filled with reports about three apparently unrelated incidents in the news:  a news account of someone in Virginia being found dead of a heart attack when they didn’t report in to work; a car accident on the Washington D.C. Beltway that left 2 dead, 1 in critical condition, and several injured; and a drug related shooting in Chicago that spilled over into a shopping district and resulted in several  innocent bystanders being wounded.

Clint and Tony looked baffled at each other.

“Ok, Jarvis, I’ll bite: what do these things have to do with my interests?”

“The heart attack fatality in Virginia, the two dead and one critically injured in the traffic accident‑all from the same car pool vehicle‑, and one of the people shot , but not killed, in Chicago, all have the same employment in common, sir.”

“These are Stark Industry employees?!” Tony started sounding angry.

Clint was wondering if this attack on SI had anything to do with Tony harboring him when Jarvis shocked them both speechless.

“No, Sir. All five of them worked for the Psychology department of S.H.I.E.L.D. and each of them was involved with Agent Barton’s case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a reminder: Thor: The Dark World has already occurred, recently. This is the opening moves of The Winter Soldier in this universe (Steve being bugged, or at least his apartment being bugged, is canon.)
> 
> The (loose) quote is from the movie Casablanca  
>  Rick: How can you close me up? On what grounds?  
>  Captain Renault: I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!  
>  [a croupier hands Renault a pile of money]  
>  Croupier: Your winnings, sir.  
>  Captain Renault: [sotto voce] Oh, thank you very much.  
>  [aloud] Captain Renault: Everybody out at once! 
> 
> The title is from Five for Fighting: Superman (It's not easy)


	8. People Like Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 of Clint Barton's S.H.I.E.L.D. psychology/assessment team just met with potentially lethal accidents. I  
> m sure it's just a coincidence.

 

Clint sat back slowly. “Who.”  He said it flatly.

Jarvis gave names; in at least one case they had an alternate civilian ID, but Jarvis had both. “Mr. Stark had asked me to look into this after you explained how poorly you were treated.”

Tony saw the way Clint looked at him. “Uh-uh, not me. If I wanted to not let you know, Jarvis wouldn’t have told me in front of you. This is news to me.”

Clint sighed, “No such thing as coincidence.”

“Well it would be weird, yeah,” Tony admitted.

“Hang on.” Clint pulled out his phone and entered a lengthy text. “There. Natasha knows to go help Cap, and about the psych boys.”

“Did she do it?”

“No.”

“How do you know?” Tony asked curiously.

“One: she would have told me; and two: two of them wouldn’t have lived.”

Tony mulled that over and nodded.

“They could be trying to get information,” Clint said thoughtfully. “I mean, the heart attack can be aftermath of questioning. Not sure about the others.”

 “Jarvis,” Tony asked thoughtfully. “How many people did you find that were associated with Clint’s files?”

“In the psych department or altogether, Sir?”

“Let’s start with the psych department.”

“Six first tier individuals, four additional second tier, Sir.”

Tony looked thoughtful, “Jarvis, OTHER than these five, any unusual accidents in the news involving S.H.I.E.L.D. agents?”

“No, Sir. All other reports are, shall we say, typical.”

“Huh.” Tony looked thoughtfully at Clint.  “So it really looks like it’s tied to your case.”

“What do the tiers mean?”

“Tier one means they treated you OR had direct say on your treatment.” Tony shrugged. “Second tier means involved less directly, but still significantly.”

“You… you got into my treatment files?!” Clint started to get angry.

“No, Mr. Barton. Mr. Stark asked me to investigate but has told me not to give him access to the files themselves, just the people who handled them.”

Tony shrugged. “My only question was ‘Did any of these guys flag the other guys?’  You know, was anyone going ‘hey, this isn’t getting us progress’ or something. I haven’t even looked at the psych report summaries.  Figured it was your business, you know?”

Clint relaxed a little, “Oh. Yeah, that… Thanks.”

“Besides, if in all that time they never ONCE pointed out that you chose not to kill Fury? Or at least not take the guaranteed kill? I figure they’re idiots‑ why should I trust anything they say?”

Clint laughed.  “Ok…” Then he suddenly stopped laughing. “Jarvis!”

“Yes, Mr. Barton?”

“Where is Si-number six?” Clint said intently. “Five out of six of this first tier were in lethal danger or dead today; where is number six?”

“Good question.” said Tony. “Is there an answer Jarvis?”

“The sixth individual, one Jasper Sitwell, has not shown up in my news monitoring, Sir.  I would need authorization to intrude again on S.H.I.E.L.D. security in depth.”

Tony grinned, “Like I need an excuse. Go for it.”

Tony bent his head down over his pad while Clint sat tensely waiting.

Eventually Tony whistled. “Clint, that was a VERY good question.”

“Why?”

“Jasper Sitwell was stationed on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier; he didn’t report in to work today.  They have issued a VERY quiet alert, because they can’t find him.”

Clint stared at him. “You don’t just walk off the helicarrier for a morning newspaper.”

“No, no you don’t.”

“Jarvis, are they watching the agents in the hospital?”

“Yes Sir, they are.”

“Drop a note to Fury that they may want to watch harder, and point out the connections.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“I should get out of here,” Clint said, not moving.

“Why?”

“If they’re targeting me…”

Tony grinned, “You know anyplace better to hole up?”

“You could be in danger, Tony.”

“Oh geez, now you sound like Pepper; don’t.  I am a big playboy industrialist millionaire, I can handle myself, and besides… not many people even know you’re HERE.”

“True.”

“Jarvis? Initiate lockdown, Level 3.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

There was a noise of things moving in the walls, and the windows went three shades darker. Two panels in the walls opened up and Clint was startled to see heavy duty weaponry of a sort that Stark Industries had stopped making a long time ago.

“There ya go.”

Almost instantly Tony’s phone rang. “Hi Pepper. Yes, Level 3.”  He listened, looking very sad. “We think it may be related to S.H.I.E.L.D. actually. So, um, tell the agents in the building to watch their backs and… don’t stand too close to them.”  He hung up the phone and stared at it for a bit. “Love you,” he said quietly.

Clint had hobbled over to the weapons.  He wasn’t looking at the Stark Industries weapons, but waving at a locked case with really weird looking weapons on display.  “Tony? What the hell ARE these?”

“Like them? These are the weapons Fury was trying to build‑ the ones he wanted the Tesseract for.”

“You… got these to work?”

“Of course,” Tony said, looking pleased with himself. “I AM a genius after all.  Their range is limited, though: you either need to power them with an ARC reactor, or keep them basically within the building network for a power feed.” He shrugged. “Oh, and that one is kind of a stunner, instead of a disintegrator‑don’t get them confused.”

“You think we’ll need them?”

“No,” Tony admitted. “But I’m a firm believer in ‘a good offense is the best defense’.”

Tony left Jarvis to fill Clint in on the weapons, while he canceled most of his less secure public appearances.  When he came back, Clint was biting his lip‑ _which was sexy as hell._

“Tony, I’m not sure what I’m up to tonight, but would you mind if I stayed here? I mean, in your bedroom?”

“What, a gorgeous, well-muscled guy in my bed?  Who’s all helpless-ish and wounded? Oh, the horrors…” Tony grinned at him.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jasper Sitwell won't be available for Natasha and Steve to interrogate in Winter Soldier, too bad.


	9. Veteran of the Psychic Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint dreams of blue, and green, and red

Clint felt oddly safe with Tony clinging to him.   _Isn’t that the damndest thing? Out of his armor, Tony wasn’t capable of…_

Clint smoothed the dark hair back.  _That… was S.H.I.E.L.D. talking. That was files, and analysis, and… Natasha had said he was dying during a lot of that; no one makes a good impression then, right?_

Clint drifted off to sleep.

*

_He was standing in the headquarters directing everyone, and everything was blue… and it should always be blue… blue was certainty._

_And Loki’s eyes were blue, but not blue enough, and then they were green._

_And he was waking up, and looking at Red and his head hurt, and the world was the old uncertain place again, and he loved it and he hated it._

_There were people he should know, but he didn’t, and the only one that was blue was Captain America, but he wasn’t the right blue… and everything else was green… or red._

_And he was looking down at Loki and he was all green and red, and no blue at all, none, and he wanted to know where he belonged now, because the blue was gone._

*

He whimpered faintly, and Tony curled up around him more on the bed.

*

_He was standing someplace… It looked foreign, and his mind tried to make it look like a hotel, but it wouldn’t.  Loki was standing there, and he was just green, no red at all, and no blue…_

_“You have heart,” Loki said, but he wasn’t hissing it; he just said it._

_Clint didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there and tried to make sense of it.  It was slow, and liquid, the way dreams are sometimes, but something was wrong somehow._

_“Where am I?” Clint asked._

_“Dreaming.”_

_“Oh.  You… you aren’t blue.”_

_Loki looked confused for a moment, and then said, “Should I be?”_

_“You should have been, but you weren’t. You weren’t blue enough, that’s why they yelled at you, because you weren’t blue enough, you were green.”_

_Loki looked very oddly at him for a long time, but it was a dream and Clint just stood there waiting._

_“Come here.”_

_He walked over with no hesitation, even though he wasn’t blue. “Will I be blue again?”_

_“No.”_

_“I want to be, sometimes.” He saw Jasper Sitwell lying on the floor; he’d been out of sight until he came up to Loki.  “I never told him that.  That sometimes I missed being blue.  It was simpler.”_

_Jasper wasn’t blue, he was red.  Someone had broken him in a lot of places._

_“He looks red.”_

_“Red?” Loki walked around behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Explain.”_

_“It’s red when you stop being blue.  Red hit me, so I was red… Green hit you, so you were red… and green.” He tried to think, but everything was so syrupy. “But you were always green.  Even under the blue“‑he turned around and looked up at Loki‑“weren’t you, Sir?”_

_Loki smiled, “Yes.”_

_There was a pause. “I was going to kill Stark, you know.  Break him.”_

_“Because he wouldn’t be blue?”_

_“Among other reasons.  You seem to like him, though.”_

_“Oh… yes, yes I do.  He’s been…”_

*

Clint tried to think, and it seemed like something was wrong, he started twisting and trying to wake up. “Don’t… don’t make me hurt him…” he gasped, struggling against the syrup, trying to wake up.

Tony petted his back and mumbled into his ear that he was safe. Clint fell back into the dream.

*

_Time seemed to have passed. Sitwell was still there‑Clint idly thought he was dead now; the blood pool wasn’t spreading. Now there was someone else there too, bandaged on the floor. They were gagged and their eyes looked terrified… They were nude, except for the bandages… Clint recognized one of the therapists, the one that always looked at him with disgust when he thought Clint couldn’t see him._

*

Clint felt the syrup move aside, just for an instant.  His anger was hot and it cleared his head just a bit. Where was he?

Loki turned him away from the people on the floor. “Look at me.”

*

_Clint looked up at him; he was green._

_“You won’t be blue again, but you can be mine again… It will be much easier, much simpler.”_

_Clint nodded, “Red? And… Tony? I don’t want to hurt them.”_

_“YOU won’t.”_

_Clint stood there waiting; he wasn’t sure for what, just waiting._

_Loki   looked him in the eyes‑ they were very green‑ and spoke very firmly; the words seemed to echo. “You should stay with Stark.  Things are going to be…” Loki smiled. “Very Red.”_

_“Stay with Stark,” Clint repeated._

_“Yes.”_

_“Stark is red, but… like Red is, it’s just their color.” Clint could tell he didn’t quite understand. “Red and black, red and gold.”_

_“Oh, I see… yes. Yes they are.  You should stay with him for a little while, until I call you back.”_

_“Call me back?” Hope and Fear tried to argue._

_“Of course. You’re mine.  I won’t let anyone take you away.”_

_Clint nodded.  That was good, wasn’t it?...  Wasn’t it?..._

*

Wasn’t it?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> need i remind you that dream states, even remarkably lucid ones, are not always literal?


End file.
